Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Azerbaijan and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Stetsasonic to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Manfred Mann's Earth Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ludus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Laurel Aitken,
Max Romeo,
Don Cherry,
T. Rex,
K-Klass,
Robert Görl,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sugar Minott,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Robert Wyatt,
Thee Headcoats,
The Knickerbockers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Blackbyrds,
Index,
Liliput,
the Association,
Davy DMX,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Dual Sessions,
The Monks,
Cameo,
Lyres,
Das Ding,
Heaven 17,
Moss Icon,
David McCallum,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Selecter,
Rufus Thomas,
Stereo Dub,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Beau Brummels,
Bill Near,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Negative Approach,
The Grass Roots,
Neu!,
Goldenarms,
Harpers Bizarre,
Roy Ayers,
Andrew Hill,
Bill Wells,
FM Einheit,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Tremeloes,
Crime,
Wally Richardson,
Mars,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Vogues,
Suicide,
MDC,
The Golliwogs,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Scion,
Iggy Pop,
Gang of Four,
Lakeside,
The Sound,
Erasure, Erasure, Erasure, Erasure.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.